Page 15 of Darkest Craving

VICTORIA

H e killed for me. Standing here, in the middle of his room, with the wedding dress still on, it’s all I can think about. The blood that splattered on his face. The sound of metal cracking bone. The stench, the looks we got from everyone in the church, including my family.

I’ve never seen it happen in real life, and I admit, it rattled me a little, which is another mistake on my part. Because in a world like Wolfgang’s I don’t get to feel rattled. If I let it, the ugliness will break me, and I can’t allow that.

Still, he… defended me. And I wish he hadn’t, because now I’m confused.

Why did he do it?

I follow my husband with my eyes as he comes out of the en-suite bathroom with a clean face and new clothes. Business casual, the kind you’d wear if you were going out instead of staying in with your wife.

Except… it’s our wedding night, and I expected him to…

I suck in a breath, killing the thought, as I take in the room.

It's larger than the one I’ve been locked in, and the styling gives it a masculine vibe.

A four-poster king-sized bed sits in the middle against a black wall, with silk sheets of a dark charcoal color.

The ceiling holds a crystal chandelier above it, catching lights from the sunset through the tall windows.

“What am I doing here?” I ask, exhaustion dripping from my every word.

He picks up the phone, texting someone as he answers. “This is where you’ll be sleeping from now.”

“If you’re also sleeping here, the answer is no.”

“I’m not asking, Victoria. I’m telling you.”

I snort and turn away from him, facing the windows overlooking the garden.

“How is your arm?”

I shake my head, turning to face him again.

“You killed that man.”

“I’m sorry you had to see it.”

“But not that you did it.”

“Do you expect me to be? Because if you do, you will be very disappointed with your new life, love.”

Butterflies spring to life in my stomach, and I frown as my pulse hikes. “Don’t call me that.”

His lips lift with that barely noticeable smile of his that makes me feel exposed. My cheeks warm up. He’s so close, and we’re alone, and now I’m his wife. Officially.

And that kiss… that long, possessive kiss in the church made me feel things I’m not ready to accept about myself.

His knuckles brush my warm face. “I asked Corinne to bring you dinner. Be good and eat. And get some rest. I know the ceremony wasn’t easy for you.”

He’s right. It wasn’t. Seeing my parents there, looking so helpless and humiliated… It hurt more than I’ll ever admit to him.

“Since when do you care how I feel?”

“I’ve always cared about your wellbeing. I told you before, I take care of what belongs to me.”

“You took me away!” I explode. “You stole my life away from me. Locked me in a room with no human contact for days on end. Is this how you take care of what belongs to you?”

Compared to mine, his tone is calm, endearing almost. “Actions have consequences, Victoria. I made you aware that you will be punished if you don’t obey me. And I also told you I’d reward you if you did. The choices you make are yours. You dictate what happens to you.”

I grab his arm and squeeze, looking him dead in the eye. His gaze lowers to where our bodies make contact, and the smile returns to his face.

“ Never lock me in a room again,” I say, lowering my voice. “If you do, the second you open that door, I promise you, Wolfgang… I’ll kill you.”

He waits, letting the silence stretch between us long enough for my confidence to start to perish. His lips part, and my hand on his arm loosens. My body fills with unease because I know I just issued my first threat.

“I don’t need to lock you in a room to keep you in check, love. Remember that.”

He turns to walk away, heading for the door.

“You’re… leaving?”

“I have something important to take care of tonight.”

I don’t know why I’m surprised. He seems to come and go without any given notice. This was all just a big transaction for him. Our marriage is a complete sham.

I cross my arms and walk deeper into the room. I don’t want his company, anyway. I don’t. I’m just so fucking sick of being treated like an object he wants to dispose of but can’t, so he just stuffs it in the attic and hopes he never has to see it again.

I take a seat and stoop to take off my heels, dropping the first one to the floor.

“You’re upset.”

“Nope. You can go now. I want to be alone.” As soon as I straighten up, he props his arms on either side of the armchair and lowers his head until I can feel the tickle of his breath against my face.

“Were you hoping we’d spend our wedding night together, love? Is that it?”

I suck in a breath, goosebumps pebbling the skin on my back and arms.

“I’m bored. Go pester someone else.”

“No, no, no,” he whispers. “I don’t think bored is what you are. I think you moaned when I kissed you at the altar. I think you liked it when I pulled your hair like I owned you. And I think you wanted me to throw you on this bed and have my way with you until dawn. How far off am I?”

His lips brush mine, not in a kiss, but in a tantalizing touch that never feels like it’s enough.

“Very,” I drawl, my breath trembling between us. “Past the North Pole.”

“Mmm. See, the problem with that is… I know an aroused woman when I see one. But let me assure you, Victoria, that when I get back, I’ll take my sweet time to explore you and your pussy.

And you will come for me many, many times, no matter how much you like to lie to yourself that it’s not what you want. ”

His baritone voice sears along my nerve endings, forcing me to swallow dryly.

“Keep deluding yourself. Like I said, you’re boring me.”

A lie. A blatant lie. I know it, he knows it, but here we are, still playing the game. The game in which I’m losing, exactly like he said I would.

“Oh, am I, now?” he says with false regret.

Supporting the weight of his body on one arm, he lowers the other one to my feet and drags it up under my dress, stopping once he reaches the apex of my thighs.

“Wolfgang—”

“Ah, but look at you, love, all warm between your legs.” He presses a finger against my panties, rubbing my pussy in a slow circle. My legs part wider on their own accord. “Am I still boring you?”

I’m too focused on the throbbing, on his scent seeping into my pores, on the strong hand drawing out my surrender. My body is betraying me, and I can’t get rid of this feeling. He keeps rubbing me, and it’s soft, and cruel, and oh so delicious. And I can’t, I can’t…

“Victoria?”

“Y-yes.”

“Take off your dress.”